We are barraged daily with bad news about the economy, health care, and war. Taxes will be due soon. Winter lingers. And talented singers are being ousted from American Idol. It's easy to get weighed down by the blues.
It's time to take a load off. Shed the weight of doom and gloom and have some fun. Find one thing you've been longing to do lately: go on a hike, ride a bike. Knit a scarf, or scarf down a gooey piece of cake. It doesn't have to be a Mt. Everest climb; it can be as simple as sitting quietly for an hour listening to the Brandenburg Concerto, uninterrupted. Or it can be a wild and crazy night on the town.
Whatever you choose, make sure you're in the moment while you're having fun. Notice how you feel physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Then, spend a few minutes writing about it. Make a list of adjectives that describe how you felt. Make a list of verbs that describe what you did. And then make a list of all the other fun things you want to do and, if you can, set up a schedule to do them.
We all need fun.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
After They're Gone
I had a record number of views on my blogs this past Monday, which is my usual day of posting. But I didn't post that day so it makes me wonder why so many viewers. It's almost as if I have more readers when I don't have anything to say, or maybe it's just a case of absence making the heart grow fonder.
There's something about human nature that makes us care more about the individual, and what she stands for, after the fact. When someone we had right in front of us disappears, we then decide how valuable he or she was and are willing to forgive and forget.
I know there have been people in my life who meant a lot to me, and I never really told them. There have been people, too, who meant a lot to me but I didn't realize it till much, much later.
This week, think of someone who you now appreciate but who you didn't value as much in the past. Write a letter to him or her, expressing your gratitude. It doesn't have to be a letter you really send, although you certainly could. Just acknowledging your appreciation in the privacy of your own words can help set you free.
There's something about human nature that makes us care more about the individual, and what she stands for, after the fact. When someone we had right in front of us disappears, we then decide how valuable he or she was and are willing to forgive and forget.
I know there have been people in my life who meant a lot to me, and I never really told them. There have been people, too, who meant a lot to me but I didn't realize it till much, much later.
This week, think of someone who you now appreciate but who you didn't value as much in the past. Write a letter to him or her, expressing your gratitude. It doesn't have to be a letter you really send, although you certainly could. Just acknowledging your appreciation in the privacy of your own words can help set you free.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Styrofoam
Today I was sorting through junk. Well, to be honest, it wasn't all junk. There were a few reasonable craft supplies, some paints, and household tools amidst the junk. Mostly, though, it was scraps of felt and paper, sheets of cardboard spray-painted with teenaged heartbreak, a few forgotten Skittles, and chunks of styrofoam ranging in size from 1 square inch to 3 feet long. What was once a room for organized storage and table tennis had morphed to a craft room and later to a garbage dump, and it's time to reverse the morphing process, so I dove in.
It was easy to decide what to do with most of the stuff: it was sorted and tossed into boxes, bins, or the garbage cans. But the styrofoam stymied me. My son, now 18, had once had a passion for building terrain and painting miniature action features. He collected styrofoam and would meticulously (and miraculously) transform it into battlefields or bridges or even medieval forests. He is the type of person who never likes to throw things away, and even though his craft no longer calls to him, he can't let go of all the supplies. Not even the chunks of blue and white styrofoam he's collected from construction sites and electronic product cartons. I wondered how I could justify throwing out somebody else's trash.
As I worked, I began to feel like I was living a metaphor. We all start out fresh and organized, anxious to build our lives with the tools available and collecting materials every day to grow and succeed. But as time wears on and mistakes are made and new paths are forged, some of the tools and materials fall by the wayside. If we hang onto them, they start to feel like junk. But sometimes it's hard to let go.
We could be talking here about communication styles, or how we approach our daily work. We could be talking about how we take care of ourselves, or how we relate to our loved ones. We could be talking about personality styles. However you look at it, we all develop skills and traits as we grow and mature, but sometimes they morph into bad habits and counterproductive behaviors. Like those pieces of styrofoam, they really won't serve a purpose and just get in the way.
I wrote a couple of weeks ago about the hurt locker, where we collect in our memory those things that have tried to hurt us in the past. Now I'm thinking about another intangible collection: those behaviors we have that need to be looked at and sorted and purged. Just as I can look at my son's styrofoam and shake my head, thinking he really needs to get rid of that junk, I find I can identify other people's behaviors that serve no purpose or, even worse, interfere with a productive life. But the hard part is identifying my own styrofoam, my own behaviors that need to be scrutinized.
What about you? Think of a recent experience where the outcome of an interaction didn't end satisfactorily. Which of your behaviors contributed to it? Are these leftover remnants from your past, that no longer serve you? Ought they be crumbled up like styrofoam bits and tossed in the trash?
Now write about it.
It was easy to decide what to do with most of the stuff: it was sorted and tossed into boxes, bins, or the garbage cans. But the styrofoam stymied me. My son, now 18, had once had a passion for building terrain and painting miniature action features. He collected styrofoam and would meticulously (and miraculously) transform it into battlefields or bridges or even medieval forests. He is the type of person who never likes to throw things away, and even though his craft no longer calls to him, he can't let go of all the supplies. Not even the chunks of blue and white styrofoam he's collected from construction sites and electronic product cartons. I wondered how I could justify throwing out somebody else's trash.
As I worked, I began to feel like I was living a metaphor. We all start out fresh and organized, anxious to build our lives with the tools available and collecting materials every day to grow and succeed. But as time wears on and mistakes are made and new paths are forged, some of the tools and materials fall by the wayside. If we hang onto them, they start to feel like junk. But sometimes it's hard to let go.
We could be talking here about communication styles, or how we approach our daily work. We could be talking about how we take care of ourselves, or how we relate to our loved ones. We could be talking about personality styles. However you look at it, we all develop skills and traits as we grow and mature, but sometimes they morph into bad habits and counterproductive behaviors. Like those pieces of styrofoam, they really won't serve a purpose and just get in the way.
I wrote a couple of weeks ago about the hurt locker, where we collect in our memory those things that have tried to hurt us in the past. Now I'm thinking about another intangible collection: those behaviors we have that need to be looked at and sorted and purged. Just as I can look at my son's styrofoam and shake my head, thinking he really needs to get rid of that junk, I find I can identify other people's behaviors that serve no purpose or, even worse, interfere with a productive life. But the hard part is identifying my own styrofoam, my own behaviors that need to be scrutinized.
What about you? Think of a recent experience where the outcome of an interaction didn't end satisfactorily. Which of your behaviors contributed to it? Are these leftover remnants from your past, that no longer serve you? Ought they be crumbled up like styrofoam bits and tossed in the trash?
Now write about it.
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